


A Door Closes

by KissOfTheGrimm (Lotus_kiss)



Series: The Misadventures of Jack Hotchner and Ms. Granger [3]
Category: Criminal Minds, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Exhibitionism, Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Masturbation, Other, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 04:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10632519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotus_kiss/pseuds/KissOfTheGrimm
Summary: Hermione's teaching days are coming to a close, she's moving on with her life, Blaise at her back. Though this door is closing, the windows have been left open and opportunities are always popping up. Sequel to Only a Moment, The Misadventures of Jack Hotchner and Ms. Granger #3





	

**Author's Note:**

> Long awaited and a little more mature than I intended. Definitely rated MA, here it is! Jack Hotchner and Ms. Granger #3

Hermione snuggled deeper into the blankets and reached out across the bed for Blaise only to find empty space and cooling sheets. Rolling over, the witch sat up and turned her face away from the bright early morning sun drifting in the bedroom windows. Pushing aside the blankets Hermione stood and grabbed the plain black robe that lay pooled on the floor. She shivered as the cool, silky material slid over the bare skin on her back and thighs. Tying the robe closed she exited the bedroom and padded down the hall; bare feet sinking into plush carpeting while nimble fingers pulled the birds nest she called hair into a ponytail.

Blaise stood in front of the stove placing pancakes on a plate and slices of Canadian bacon on another. The table was already set with silverware, a large bowl of mixed fruit and a steaming pot of tea. As Blaise brought the rest to the table Hermione couldn’t help but stare lovingly at the man who had forced his way back into her life only three months before. Ratty sweatpants hung off well defined hips, tanned skin was littered with small scars and lithe muscles rippled with movement. Short dark hair was spiked in all directions and longer fringe hung in the Italian’s eyes. His arms were toned; hands scarred but always as gentle or rough as necessary. Blaise looked up at her and smiled wickedly before winking and licking his lower lip swiftly.

Hermione blushed as she moved off the wall, crossing the space between them.

“Have you been up long?”

Blaise shook his head.

“Only a little while, I had an early morning fire call with Kingsley about the new branch office.”

Blaise held out Hermione’s chair, letting her get settled before seating himself across from her in the small breakfast nook. He had been glued to her hip since the shooting at the school, though he tried not to let Hermione know how much that event had affected him. Hermione knew how close things had come for her and the recovery had been a very slow few weeks. Since that spring day back in March Blaise had been staying at her place two to three nights a week despite the time difference, and began taking portkeys or the international floo.

On one occasion he had made several apparition jumps because the international floo network had been down. He wouldn’t be doing that any longer however, not since his appointment to the Drug Suppression and Fugitive Apprehension Unit within the International Magical Law Enforcement office out of Quantico, Virginia. As they spoke, law enforcement wizards from all over the world were being recruited to the newly formed unit; housed in the basement of FBI Headquarters in Quantico.

Shortly after Voldemort’s fall, dark wizards from all over Europe had fled to America where nobody knew them or hunted them; specifically during the overhaul of the British Ministry. Recently these fugitives decided they were done hiding and began causing noticeable trouble. Now by a unanimous consensus of the International Wizarding Confederation, they were to be hunted and punished for their numerous crimes. Unfortunately these criminals were not the biggest problem to have crossed the pond, for despite Britain’s best efforts, Morgana’s Dust had taken root in the United States, specifically within the east coast party scene.  With all the trouble stirring up, The Magical Congress of the United States of America, better known as MACUSA, decided since these troubles started across the pond, that this hunt should be a combined effort. Needless to say some of the best wizards and witches were either being loaned out by their departments or offered permanent positions within the newly formed unit.

Blaise had been offered one of these coveted positions, one of the more senior spots available. He had accepted without hesitation; the position was a promotion for Blaise, and with no sign of advancement in the near future, the choice had been a no brainer. Career development aside it also moved him into the same city as Hermione and because he was persistent enough, it also moved him into her townhouse. Hermione had actually been asked on as a consultant, offered a similar arrangement to what she had with the British Ministry but instead she surprised everyone by asking for a permanent position. People had been confused by her request but that didn’t stop them from hiring her on the spot, the new department unwilling to give her the chance to change her mind. MACUSA could now boast they had two of Britain’s best on their permanent payroll.

Since witches and wizards were coming from all over the world, the office wasn’t expected to be fully operational until the beginning of July. This gave Hermione plenty of time to finish out the year with her students and pull her old equipment from secured storage. She and Blaise were being partnered together as a senior suppression unit, designed to work separate from large units, but jointly when needed. They had a good record together, even after the loss of Alekzander and nobody wanted to mess with that rhythm, although Hermione wasn’t too proud to admit she had fallen far out of practice and was hardly considered mission ready. As a result, they were spending hours before and after school at the gym getting Hermione back on track. Regular trips to the gym over years kept her body conditioned, it was just a matter of sharpening her edge.

Both Harry and Ron had been offered similar positions but Harry was leaving magical law enforcement for Quidditch and Ron didn’t want to uproot his family, didn’t want to be away from the _Weasley Clan_. Ron was comfortable in his job and excelled as the head of the Raid and Seizure division while Lavender was slowly if not surely positioning herself to one day take over the Daily Prophet.  Harry’s choice to take Quidditch to the professional level was no surprise, they all knew it would happen eventually. What had really been the surprise was that Harry had gone through with the Auror track for eleven years. Bulgaria had finally made an offer he couldn’t refuse, they wanted him as their seeker because Viktor Krum wanted to do what he really loved, be a beater. The fact the man loved beating things and people was really no surprise.

Hermione had at first been confused when she found out the new offices were located underneath the FBI building but as soon as it was explained to her, it was like the secret to the MACUSA’s success had been laid in her hands. It was actually quite brilliant, for nearly every muggle office that existed there was a magical counterpart. From law enforcement to immigration, the health department and even child services. Most of these offices were in the congress building, however specialized law enforcement departments were one of the few that tended to shared buildings with their muggle counterparts.

Hermione was pulled from her head by the warm hand that settled on her own and the bare foot that ran up her leg. Blaise looked at her face, his expression full of concern.

“Are you with me Hermione?”

Hermione blushed, wondering how long she’d been caught up in her own world, it hadn’t felt like long but her mind wandered these days. Smiling she grabbed a strawberry from the bowl and tossed it in her mouth.

“Just touring memory lane again, that’s all.”

A slow smile spread over Blaise’s lips and he leaned back in his chair, foot still sliding up and down her leg.

“We’ve made plenty of memories together.”

Hermione grabbed another strawberry and tossed it at him, covering her laughter.

“I was thinking about how much my life has changed the last few months, it’s not always about you. Slytherins and their arrogance shall never be parted, eh?”

Blaise just smiled.

“It’s not arrogance, it's confidence.”

Breakfast continued for the next half hour or so, little jokes going back and forth but Blaise never stopped touching her in some manner. It was sweet but drove Hermione up the wall sometimes. It was almost like he was afraid she would just up and evaporate in front of him. Together they cleaned up the table, placing dishes in the sink that would with the proper charm, wash themselves later. Blaise wrapped up the leftover food and put it away, turning back to Hermione just in time to watch her robe fall to the floor. Sunlight came in through the living room windows where they stood, illuminating her naked body in an ethereal glow.

Hermione pulled her ponytail down and shook her hair out, fluffing the curls around her shoulders.

“I’ve still got thirty minutes before I have to get dressed for school. How would you like to be my special helper today?”

Blaise took a step forward and stopped, eyes running over every curve of her, as they had many times before. He easily spotted and identified where each scar came from, including the newest; still pink and rough. It was true that he and Hermione would never be fully complete, the space Alekzander once filled would always be between them, but he knew her like no other on this planet ever could; even Potter and Weasley. Blaise knew what got her hot, how much she loved the rain and even how much chocolate syrup to pour into her hot chocolate before she’d even think about drinking it. Blaise took another step forward and stared into her eyes, watching the reaction. First Hermione’s pupil’s dilated and her breathing sped up just a bit, then her eyes became bright and her fingers twitched.

A low, hungry sound trickled from Blaise’s throat.

Hermione watched the Italian in return, muscles clenched in anticipation.  Of all the complaints she had about him, like leaving the toilet seat up, putting his cold feet on her in bed, and forgetting to put wet clothes in the dryer; sex with him could never be one of them. Certainly there was something missing, nothing could ever replace Alekzander but since Blaise had come back into her life the sex had been explosive. Rough and primal but soft and sweet when the time was right. The last couple weeks they had both been busy and with the time difference they hadn’t spent much time together, in or out of bed. Blaise however was officially employed by the American Ministry and wasn’t due for duty until July. For now he was moving the contents of his flat, cleaning out his office and taking care of miscellaneous things. Which left a whole lot of off time to play, to get to know each other again.

Lifting a hand Hermione ran it through her hair and poked her tongue out to lick her lip, her other hand sliding south down her abdomen. The Gryffindor baited him, she couldn’t help it; he was far too restrained for her liking.

“Where’s your confidence now Blaise?”

Blaise took another step forward and smiled wickedly.

“Run.”

Hermione didn’t need another warning, she turned on the balls of her feet and took off down the hall; Blaise right behind her.

-HP/CM-

Hermione looked around her classroom, her chest tight. The final bell of the year had wrung a few minutes ago and as the kids raced out of her classroom with shouts of joy, she realized her time as a teacher had come to a close. Her desk was cleaned out, her locker empty and her personal files boxed up in the truck; all that was left was to shut the door behind her and drop off her keys in the front office. Turning away from the science books she had been stacking Hermione tried to breathe through the ache that had bloomed in her chest, and the twisting of her gut. It was always this way when her class moved on, only this time she wouldn’t be getting a new one. Her sandals tapped lightly against the floor and when she closed her eyes she could almost imagine them all still at their small desks, waiting for her instructions like the impatient little devils they were.

Hermione’s fingers whispered over each desktop she could reach as she went by, a silent goodbye to the echoes that would remain before grabbing her beaded bag and walking out the door, closing it softly behind her. Dropping the keys off to the office with a smile was one of the hardest things she had ever done and Hermione barely held her composure together until she got to the truck. Sitting in the front seat she bent her head over the steering wheel and cried.

-HP/CM-

Hermione grunted as she pushed the passenger door closed with her butt, a large box in her arms and the strings of her beaded bag clenched between her teeth. Trotting up the steps of the front porch Hermione sighed in relief when Blaise pulled the door open, eyes twinkling.

“Are you the moving company?”

Hermione grunted and rolled her eyes before pushing past him into the foyer.

“There’s two more in the back seat smartass.”

Blaise’s laughter echoed from the front steps. Hermione took her box through the kitchen and up the back stairs to the second floor, before depositing it in the corner of her office. Blaise came in a minute later, both boxes in one arm like the strong man. Hermione blew hair out of her eyes and gestured to the first box.

“Just put them over there.”

Blaise set the boxes down with an ease that made the witch jealous. Hermione stared at them longingly and turned back to the Slytherin, stepping into the warmth of his embrace. She couldn’t’ stop the sniffle that escaped her, and buried her face in his shirt. Blaise made a clucking noise and tightened his arms around her.

“It’s alright Hermione.”

Hermione nodded but didn’t say anything. They stood like that for a little while, just holding each other. Finally Hermione eased away and Blaise brushed stray hairs from her face that had escaped the once neat ponytail she sported.

“If you’re done crying, I have something for you.”

The smirk fell from Blaise’s face when Hermione punched his bicep, putting an ounce of magic behind it just to make it sting.

“Do you always have to be so insensitive?”

Blaise laughed and shook his head.

“Seriously, come with me.”

The Italian grabbed her by the hand and led her out of the office, down the front stairs and back through the kitchen toward the sliding glass door. Crookshanks stared at them balefully from the kitchen counter as they went by, tail flicking back and forth.

“Close your eyes.”

Hermione snorted.

“Last time I did that, we both know how it ended.”

Blaise chuckled; chocolate and grass didn’t go well together.

“I said close your eyes, not hold out your hand.”

Hermione smiled and complied, eyes drifting shut. Her steps were smooth and sure as she followed behind the man who had a tendency to drive her mad but gave her some of the best surprises. When they reached the sliding glass door Blaise warned her of the step down and she took it nimbly, taking a small bow at the waist after.

“Agile as ever.”

Blaise let out a low laugh and grabbed her other hand, turning her back to his chest and pulling her in close, before turning them in a circle.

“Blaise, what in Merlin’s name is going on?”

The dark haired man smiled into her hair, arms encircling her waist before whispering in her ear. When Hermione opened her eyes and stared out at the back yard she started crying again.

-HP/CM-

Eight year olds were everywhere, running across the back yard, through the water works that had been set up, playing in the bouncy house, and eating more junk than they should have been. Parents mingled, played with kids and relaxed. Hermione was running through the sprinklers in shorts and a red bikini top, her hair flying around her. Some boys were chasing her with water guns, and the girls chased the boys to defend Ms. Granger. Blaise watched the chaos with a smile, talking to parents who approached him in small groups; he was trying not to scare them too much. It had taken weeks to put this Saturday barbeque together, and almost every student had shown, parents in tow. Blaise knew how much Hermione had attached to these kids and it had hurt him to watch her as the year drew to a close. Several times he broached the subject of her staying a teacher but Hermione wanted to return to active auror status as bad as he wanted her to be his partner again.

The afternoon went by in a flurry of activity, and Hermione hadn’t even had the time to be sad about losing her kids, they were all here. As the evening crawled in, tired parents carried out sleepy kids, until only a few remained. Some parents hadn’t been able to come and those had been the hardest to convince, Blaise mused. They hadn’t exactly been trusting of his more exotic features, including the visible scars on his arms and neck. When he explained he was Ms. Granger’s police boyfriend, their fears had eased.

By seven thirty most of the mess had been cleaned up and the rest magic would take care of, but not until the last student left; Jack Hotchner. Jack had changed into dry clothes and now sat in the living room with Blaise watching cartoons, explaining to the wizard all about the Power Rangers and what they could do. Jessica was unable to get away from an emergency at work to pick up Jack, but had assured Hermione that ‘Aaron’ was on his way home from a case and would be back in D.C. by eight that evening, and could pick up his son then. Hermione was hesitant at first, but agreed that she and Blaise would take care of Jack until Mr. Hotchner could get him. Putting the last of the leftovers in the fridge, Hermione grabbed a couple sodas and headed into the living room.

Down the hall Hermione paused in the doorway, and smiled at the sight before her. Blaise lounged on the sectional sofa with Jack’s feet in his lap. Jack’s head was propped up on a pillow and he lay under a blanket, with Crookshanks curled under his chin and a small hand buried in the orange monster’s fur. Blaise spotted the witch standing in the dark and lifted a finger to his lips. Carefully sliding the sleeping boy’s feet from his lap, the Italian got up, meeting Hermione halfway. Taking the sodas he put them down on the coffee table, not before taking a quick lick of the perspiration off one.

Hermione laughed.

“That one is now yours.”

Blaise huffed and grinned, stepping closer into her space. Leaning in swiftly he licked a path up her cheek.

“This is mine as well.”

Hermione’s muffled laughter easily turned into a moan when he caught her lips with his, pulling her body against his own. Their kiss became hungry, teeth nipping and tongues warring for purchase against the other. A keening noise slipped from Hermione’s throat and Blaise broke the kiss, moving his lips to her throat and pushing his hips against hers. One hand curled in her hair, pulling her head to the side and allowing him better access to her pulse point. Gripping her waist with the other hand, Blaise pushed her backwards, walking her the way she had come.

“Shh, the kid is sleeping.”

-HP/CM-

Hotch pulled at his tie, undoing the tight knot as he sped down the highway. Glancing at the clock he grimaced, it was nearly nine and he was supposed to have picked up Jack from his teacher’s an hour ago. The jet had a mechanical issue and Strauss had held him up nitpicking at his preliminary case reports; he could only hope Ms. Granger wasn’t too upset with him. Pulling off the highway Hotch check his GPS, unsure what his next turn would be. Ms. Granger lived in one of the more ‘historical’ areas of D.C., filled with older brownstone townhouses that actually had substantial backyards for a city environment and sometimes neighbors were actually several hundred feet away instead of right on the other side of the fence. A few lefts and right had him following one of the older roads to the back of the subdivision that backed right up to federal woodlands; and after checking house numbers, Hotch was pulling up in front of a well maintained brick home. A porch swing sat silently on the covered porch, swaying back and forth in the slight breeze. Flower boxes were full of brightly colored pansies and vines grew up the front wall and around what Hotch assumed was the living room window. The porch light had been left on, more than likely in anticipation of his arrival, and cast an almost eerie glow across the cobblestone walkway. A large blue truck sat in the driveway to the left of the house, just as Jack had described to him a few months before; a sleek black sedan parked in front of it.

Shutting off the SUV, Hotch pocketed the keys, leaving his jacket and tie behind. Stretching quickly he walked up to the house and jogged the steps up the porch, before coming to a stop and knocking on the door. There was no noise from within and he tried once more with the same result, before reaching for the doorbell that apparently didn’t work. Running a hand through his hair he pulled out his phone and dialed the number he had been given by Jessica. It wrung several times before going to voicemail, a woman’s quiet and lilting voice advising him to leave a message and she’d call back as soon as she was able. Returning his phone to his back pocket Hotch sighed. He hated to impede on someone’s home but nobody was answering the door. He reached for the door knob, freezing when a low keening sound hit his ears. Turning he looked around and when he heard the noise again he moved across the porch and back down the stairs. Around the left side of the house there was a tall wooden gate that connected to a stone wall.  A groan drifted from behind the fence, followed by a repeat of the whine.

Hotch frowned and reached for the gate, surprised to find it unlocked. Opening the door he slipped through, the hinges on the door soundless as it closed behind him. Stepping carefully he nearly jumped out his skin and reflexively reached for his gun when a large orange cat came out from behind a set of blue hydrangea bushes. It stared at him almost menacingly, tail twitching back and forth. After a minute the animal gave him what could only be a dismissive sneer before wandering back behind the bushes. A breathy moan and a chuckle drifted on the air before a loud slap and high pitched gasp. Hotch’s hand remained on his gun as he stepped up to the corner of the house and peeked around it, freezing at the sight before him.

-HP/CM-

Hermione’s tongue slipped out and wet her lips before wrapping itself around the roughly padded fingers presented to her. The fingers slipped into her mouth easily and she bit down teasingly. A low noise rumbled through the chest that laid across her back, before the fingers pulled back and trailed down her side, the other hand still entwined in her hair and forcing her upper body over the picnic table that had held sweet treats only hours before. Opening her eyes Hermione couldn’t help the breathy noises that left her mouth and on impulse she bucked beneath the warm weight. Faster than a striking snake, the hand in her hair yanked her backwards and off the lacquered surface of the table, while the other pulled roughly against the waistband of her jean shorts; the seam between her thighs roughly cutting between her soaked pussy lips.

“Such a naughty teacher.”

Blaise’s hands were occupied, but that didn’t stop the man from leaning forward and grabbing her bikini top ties between his teeth, pulling them loose. The ties around her neck gave way easily, and the scraps of material that had cradled her breasts slid down with ease, dangling around her ribs until Blaise undid the tie around her back as well. He unclenched the hand in Hermione’s hair, running the fingers down her neck, around her throat and down her chest, before gripping an aching breast tightly. Pink flesh overflowed his hand despite the span of his fingers, sending a bolt of pleasure through his chest. Hermione mewled in front of him, head leaned back on his shoulder as he continued his ministrations, every so often pulling sharply at the shorts that caused her the most _grief._

“Don’t tease me.”

Hermione’s words were quiet and needy, making Blaise grin. He released his grip on her shorts, nimble fingers crawling around her exposed hip bone and undoing the button at the front. Slipping a hand inside, he pushed at the material until it fell around Hermione’s feet. Carefully the witch stepped out of the shorts before pushing them aside, and when she would have stopped, Blaise pushed her legs further apart with his own. The thins ties around her hips came away with ease and the soaked bikini bottoms were dragged roughly against her soaked flesh, catching her clit and pulling the sensitive nub.

Hermione‘s breath caught in her throat when Blaise’s fingers slipped between her damp thighs from behind, flesh hot and swollen with need. Unexpectedly he pushed against her clit roughly, heel of his palm rubbing her pussy lips; Hermione’s body bowed away from his, a sharp cry leaving her throat. The arm around her chest tightened its hold, almost bruisingly so and the fingers around her breast did the same. When Blaise made no further moves Hermione grew impatient, canting her hips and trying to slip his fingers closer to where she wanted them. Blaise laughed, hot breath fanning her neck.

Hermione lifted herself onto her toes and pushed her pelvis outward, before lowering herself and pushing her hips backwards; moaning when two thick fingers slipped inside her body, stretching the inner walls of her cunt deliciously slow.

“So that’s what you wanted. All you had to do was ask.”

Hermione let out a frustrated noise.

“Fuck me Blaise, fuck me with your fingers. I need more.”

Slowly Blaise pulled his fingers out of Hermione’s clenched channel before forcing them back, several times until her juices coated his hand, before adding a third finger. Hermione moaned and raised her arms, gripping the forearm around her chest, and the other slipping between their bodies and reaching for the button of his pants. Swiftly Blaise pulled his fingers from between her legs and grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast.”

Hermione grimaced, tugging on her arm.

“I want to touch you.”

The arm around Hermione’s chest loosened and she took her opening, spinning in Blaise’s hold and pushing against his chest, causing him to stumble and twist. Blaise barely regained his footing before Hermione pushed his ass onto the edge of the table. Gripping the bottom of his shirt, Hermione pulled it over his head and dropped to her knees, dragging her nails down his chest and abdomen, red marks appearing in their wake.  Blaise pushed himself off the table’s edge and reached for her, only to be shoved back and his hands slapped away.

“No, it’s my turn now. Be a good boy.”

Blaise grunted and leaned back, gripping the edges of the table tightly. Reaching Blaise’s waistband Hermione popped the buttons on his shorts and shoved them down, boxers following. Blaise kicked the material out of the way and met Hermione’s gaze, flashing a grin. Bringing her gaze back eye level, Hermione drank in the sight of the Italian’s straining cock, the appendage rising high and thick, curving tightly toward his abdomen. Trimmed dark hair surrounded the base, veins climbing like a tree to the underside of the leaking head. Blaise’s cock twitched in time with his heartbeat and Hermione’s mouth watered. Gripping his thighs in her hands, Hermione dug in her nails and met Blaise’s eyes once more.

“I’ve always wanted to say this; I’m hot for teacher.”

Hermione smiled, baring her teeth, before leaning in and enveloping his straining cock with her mouth. Blaise threw his head back with his jaw clenched, a tight groan escaping between his teeth. Hermione took no mercy on the Slytherin, sucking his cock between her lips and running her tongue over the sensitive head, an edge of teeth every time she dragged herself back up. Blaise was hot and heavy on her tongue, salty and musky in all the best ways. Hermione’s cheeks were hollowed out and her throat lax, but it still took effort to swallow even three quarters of what tempted her. Two, and then three minutes went by, his flesh seeming to harden even further against her onslaught. Pausing in her ministrations, Hermione released the head with a pop and lickedd her lips clean of the saliva that had gathered.  Her smile was wicked and aimed at her lover, who stared back at her as if Nirvana had been laid out before him.

“This is mine.”

Blaise swallowed thickly.

“All yours.”

Slowly Hermione rose off her knees and stood before him, grass and dirt stuck to her lower legs, light from the lanterns still lit reflecting off the juices that had run down her thighs. Winding her arms around his neck, Hermione pulled Blaise down to meet her, running her tongue along his collarbone and pressing her lips to his ear.

“Fuck me like you mean it.”

Blaise’s arms came around her and lifted her at the waist, bringing her dripping pussy level with his straining cock. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, rubbing herself against him in need. Blaise reached a hand between them and grasped his cock, positioning himself before pulling Hermione down onto the desperate flesh, watching raptly as it disappeared inch by inch. Hermione groaned and tossed her head back, clenching her inner muscles and delighting in the slow burn that resulted from the thickness inside her. No matter how many times a day they devoured each other, Blaise wasn’t small and always stretched her to the edge of pain; but Hermione liked that edge, it tasted sweet.

Blaise gripped Hermione’s ass tightly and lifted her, before slamming her back down, flesh slapping loudly. He didn’t wait for Hermione to catch her breath before setting a vigorous pace, driving in and out of her with every breath. The witch held him tight, fingers digging into his shoulders and legs flexing in time with the rise and fall of her hips. Hermione’s head fell forward and she turned her face into Blaise’s neck, baring her teeth and biting down savagely. Blaise grunted but didn’t let up, forcing Hermione closer to the edge. A burn started in her abdomen, a burn that became a wildfire, driving her toward the precipice and threatening to push her over.

Blaise’s movements became less measured and more driven, but he wouldn’t give in to his own pleasure until he made sure she _drowned_ in hers. The wizard didn’t have to wait long, knowing Hermione’s body as he did and minutes later he forced Hermione over the edge, a shriek erupting from her throat as she threw her head back. Blaise gripped Hermione tightly to him as she rode out her orgasm, and unable to hold his back any longer, he crushed the brunette to him. Minutes passed by as their breathing calmed, bodies locked together as if they had become one. Hermione made the first move, lowering her legs and hissing when Blaise withdrew himself from her body. She barely stayed on her feet with his support, Blaise wrapping her up in his embrace. They stayed like that for a few minutes longer, neither one wanting to break the silence.

“Good things our neighbors aren’t that close.”

Hermione laughed, the contagious giggle forcing its way out of her. She tried to muffle it with Blaise’s pectoral muscles, failing miserably.

“I love you Blaise.”

Blaise kissed her hair, massaging her neck in soothing circles.

“I know.”

They pulled apart once more, and it took all of three seconds for Hermione to freak out, her responsible brain catching up with her.

“Oh Merlin! Mr. Hotchner could pull up any minute! Blaise, you hussy!”

Hermione let out an indignant squawk and ran into the house, leaving Blaise naked in the backyard, his laughter echoing in the dark. Blaise picked up their clothes, and stretched before heading toward the back door. He stopped, paused and turned, angling his body toward the darkness at the corner of the house.

“Hope you enjoyed the show Hotchner, this one was free.”

-HP/CM-

Blaise came down the stairs leisurely, Hermione had beat him to the door. Jack was still asleep, cradled in his father’s arms. Hermione was assuring the man that they hadn’t minded keeping Jack longer, it was fine that Hotchner was late and that they were sorry he couldn’t make the party. Blaise snorted to himself; the man had missed the bounce house but made it for the adults only showing. Walking up behind Hermione he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. Hotchner’s eyes were drawn to the Italian’s hands, almost hypnotized as he ran his fingers back and forth over Hermione’s exposed hip bone. With an almost reluctant goodbye, Hotchner walked out the door and down the stairs towards his SUV. Hermione waited until the man loaded up Jack and got into the driver’s seat, before waving and closing the front door. With one hand now clutching his, the witch reached out her free one and placed it on the barely there symbol etched into the doorframe. A few whispered words raised the wards and the tension left her shoulders.

Hermione yawned, unable to hide how tired she was, emotionally and physically. The kids had been a wonderful surprise, a chance to get closure, as strange as it sounded. Blaise’s dark eyes watched her carefully, his large hands enveloping her own, dark eyes reeling her back in.

“Ready for bed?”

Hermione nodded and turned toward the stairs, sidestepping Crookshanks as he bounded ahead of them. Blaise grimaced as the furball made a sharp left at the second floor landing, no doubt headed straight to their bedroom. Hermione smiled and shook her head, before pulling him along up the stairs.

“I’ll sleep between you, you’ll be fine.”

Blaise doubted that, the other male was a downright territorial monster where the bookworm was concerned; but he’d do anything for his queen, even sleep near to nasty orange beast.

-HP/CM-

Hotch’s drive home was nearly unbearable, forty minutes of gripping the steering wheel bruisingly, and adjusting probably the worst hard-on he’d ever had, including his teenage years. Jack woke long enough to get him from the car, changed into his pyjamas, and tucked into bed. Once in his bedroom, Hotch stripped as if the clothes burned his skin and stumbled into the shower, dropping his gun on the sink. He couldn’t remember ever being so hungry, his blood running so hot that it blocked everything else out. Water hit his skin in a heavy but uneven staccato, causing Hotch to hiss. As if having a mind of its own, one hand traveled slowly down his abdomen and gripped his engorged cock. Giving it a squeeze, Hotch’s knees almost buckled and his free arm braced his weight against the tile wall. His eyes fell closed as his hand stroked upward, circling the leaking head almost painfully before halling back down the shaft. His breath came in light gasps and licking his lips, Hotch let his mind wander.

Hotch hadn’t thought about what Haley called _rough_ sex since the beginning of their marriage, her distaste at every suggestion or nuance effectively sewing his mouth shut. His ex-wife had been a soft woman, needing soft touches and cringing away from him when he got too ugly, too hungry. Haley would never have let him force her over a table in the backyard, pull her hair, or abuse her cunt like Ms. Granger had Blaise. No, not Ms. Granger, but Hermione; she could never be Ms. Granger again after tonight. The darker skinned man had pushed her around, teased her and when she pushed back, he had gorged himself not only on his own pleasure but the strength that radiated from the brunette on her knees before him; and Hotch wanted that too. He was beginning to think that what Haley had called _rough_ was only the tip of the iceberg, a small taste of what he could really have.

Before today he wouldn’t have even looked at another man, but watching the pair together had been the single most erotic experience of his life, in his mind there was no way to separate them. His unintended hiding place had been the perfect vantage point to watch Hermione fuck herself on Blaise’s, fingers, watch her cunt drip with need and soak the other man’s hand, three fingers far from enough. When her hungry body swallowed the man’s cock and she arched her back, straining toward the sky in his iron grip, it had taken everything Hotch had not to let go of his gun and instead reach for his own pleasure. In that moment, Hotch had wanted nothing more than to slip up behind Hermione and join Blaise inside her body, driving them all toward mindless bliss. It was sort of comical really, a weapon of death had been all that kept him together.

Hotch’s grip became almost painful, fingers stroking his cock in time with Blaise’s thrusts and Hermione’s gasps. It wasn’t hard to imagine his hand was Hermione’s cunt sucking hungrily at his cock, devouring him. He could hear her; whimpers and groans echoing off the tile walls, Blaise’s grunts and growls complimenting her perfectly. Hotch’s imagination had always been good, he could practically hear the suction of her cunt on Blaise’s cock, and in his head he went further,  envisioning Hermione squeezed between the two men. Her hands were hot and roamed his body, her mouth sucking his cock deep as Blaise fucked her from behind. He would make eye contact with the other man, lick his lips and reach forward, begging to touch……..

Easing his grip slightly Hotch hissed as blood rushed back to the head, orgasm once again held back; Haley had always praised his stamina if nothing else. Sliding his hand up the shaft he groaned, legs shaking and his supporting arm aching at the pressure. The faster Blaise fucked her, the faster his hand moved until he was resting on the edge of orgasm once more. When Hermione screamed Hotch tightened his hand, imagining her cunt clenching around him, pulsing with the aftershocks of the orgasm Blaise had given her. With a groan he came, semen covering his hand, his chest and the wall of the shower; long, thick ropes that didn’t seem to end.

When the orgasm finally abated Hotch dropped to his knees, one hand still clutching his softening cock and the other sliding down the cum covered tiles. The shower pounded water onto his head and back, rivulets running down his face and into his eyes. When Hermione had orgasmed earlier that night, convulsing in Blaise’s arms, the other man had locked eyes with Hotch, knowing he was there, hidden in the dark. He’d smirked, bared his teeth and tilted his head almost in invitation, his stance secure and his hands tight on the woman wrapped around him. The look he’d given Hotch was appreciative, both tonight and at the hospital a few months before, of that there was no doubt now. When Hermione detangled herself from him, Blaise had stroked his softening cock once, twice, three times; holding Hotch’s gaze as he did. Hotch had remained frozen, unsure what to do and knowing he had walked in on something he couldn’t just look away from.

If there was a next time, Hotch was sure he’d do something stupid; in the back of his mind, god he hoped there was a next time.


End file.
